The Diary of Laurentin
by PetroBeherha
Summary: Aurélien Laurentin, a teenaged Servine from a noble family in pre-revolutionary France, borrows a library book to pass his time. But little does he know that this book would change his world view, and himself, for the rest of his life. But only if he can avoid the eyes of his father. Warning: Contains some domestic violence. Please read the disclaimer. Criticism is welcome.
1. Sunday, 18 August, 1776

**Disclaimer!**

The following story contains hints of remarks against the Catholic religion, as well as references to real-life literary works.

By no means do these remarks, or even this story in particular, express my viewpoint towards the Catholic faith or all the related except my own conclusions of its flaws, nor is it intended to offend any followers or affiliates of said faith. I also do not intend to condemn all of the teachings preached by Catholicism, or support those of other religions.

This story also features the literary work _Treatise on Tolerance_ by Voltaire, as it contains descriptions of actual passages inside it. I have not actually read any copy of the book (except for a few actual passages) at the time this story was written, but only a handful of summaries and references found in other works as a result of my research. If you have _actually read_ any copy of the book, and you find any flaws or incoherence within this story, then I apologize for this. Also in no particular form is this work made to infringe upon copyright laws of the featured work.

I apologize for any other inconvenience that this literary work may bring upon you.

With these remarks in mind, I encourage you to approach this with an uncritical demeanor, enjoy the story, and thank you for your attention.

~PetroBeherha

* * *

**Sunday, 18 August, 1776**

It was the day of pilgrimage for all of us Arceans. Everyone sat for long hours on hard wood pews as we listened to the sermons of Brother David (Ampharos), which echoed throughout the chilled and cavernous chambers of the _Dôme des Invalides_. As usual, I sat side-by-side with my older brother, Julien-Achille (Servine). Mother (Serperior) resided with my younger sister, Diane (Snivy), and my younger brother Samuel (Snivy). As for Father (Persian), he, as the head of his estate, sat on one of the special pews upon the front. I had to constantly sit up with my back straightened, and my face and eyes forward at Brother David to keep the monk (Kadabra) from snapping at me with his dreaded spoon and words. I kept every muscle still as not to arouse that sort of punishment. If Arceus were to be so kind as to pardon my words, it was an agonizing bore. I was eager to return home.

Finally, when Brother David had announced that we are to sing, everyone stood up and we all sang aloud in a false joy. When it was over, I was relieved to leave the church. But not a minute had passed before Father came to my ear and whispered,

"You must remember, _mon fils_. You could do the Lord and his children a great service in spreading the holy faith if you were to come like that Ampharos. It would be deeply . . . _disappointing_ . . . if you were to reject."

He always insisted me on being the one singing the sermons, for which I have no interest. Though I did understand the need to spread the Faith for the good of the world, I did not think that we would suffer in so doing. But perhaps it was only me who, as a follower, must learn to endure it. I am a young Servine after all, having evolved merely two months ago.

After returning to our manor the following afternoon, Jacques (Krickitune) played a musical piece with the violin, a sweet remedy from the flower after that discomforting moment.

About two hours later, while I was in bed recovering, Julien-Achille had come to me for a visit.

"Hey! _Mon frère_! Guess what just happened!" he exclaimed.

I sighed, as I thought that he wanted to tell of father's private affairs.

Assuming this, I asked, "Does it have to do with Father?"

"Yes! He had another close victory against Larousse!"

Every Sunday, right after pilgrimage to the church, Father would come down to the courtyard with his friends, who came from many houses around the region. Above all others, his favorite activity was to have dueling tournaments with them. Julien-Achille, apparently displaying interest in these fights, had been eavesdropping on him every time and he would report about the outcome to me. He had done this since he was about eight years of age.

Larousse de Gaulle, a Politoed, was a bitter rival of Father. Sunday was a very peculiar day of the week when my father's mood would be determined by victories or defeats against him. In the days he won, he would be in a fine mood. However, that mood would take a dark turn on those days he lost. Often, he would dole it out on Mother, or sometimes one of my siblings, whom we would blame for his trouble. I rarely received these punishments as I often hid myself at these moments. My father's species, the Persian, are to attack on a mere whim, so it was little wonder that he was like this. He was like a barbarian in a noble's body. That aside, for all his trials, I have felt glad to have Julien-Achille around to warn me ahead of time, for I detest bearing witness to uncultured acts.


	2. Wednesday, 16 October, 1776

**Wednesday, 16 October, 1776**

It is late at night when I write these words, for I have little time to write before my sleep. Cecile came to my chamber and asked me if I was alright. She often comes to my room once every other night. At the moment, I pondered on the unusual treatment among us Romantics, such as having to sit on hard pews listening to hardly anything interesting, or perhaps flogging the undisciplined.

"You seem thoughtful, Aurélien. Does something vex you?" she asked in a sympathetic tone. Cecile had been with me for a long time, but I had feared to mention my doubts to her. She, like many people in this kingdom, had been taught the faith of the Roman Church. So I simply muttered how hard a day it had been, with Julien and the like. It was her nature to say sensible notions to comfort me. In part, she advised me to take heart and gladden myself "within reasonable bounds."

I realized that after all the peril I had to endure in the house that day, perhaps I should do so, so long as I would not become distracted from Arceus. Speaking of Arceus, I wonder if I have ever heard Him at all?


	3. Thursday, 17 October, 1776

**Thursday, 17 October, 1776**

It was a dreary and rainy afternoon when my mood drove me to heed Cecile's heartfelt advice of the previous day. And so, I came to the local library to get a book to pass my time. There, I browsed for any books I might find worthy to read. Indeed, there were many books of various titles and subjects, done by many authors. Some of which include copies of the _Principa Mathematica_, _Leviathan_, _The Barber of Seville_, and many plays by Molière and translated versions of Shakespeare. Only a handful of these books I intended on buying later. Finally, my eye caught something appealing. It was _Treatise on Tolerance_ by Voltaire. It looked like any other book, but I considered for a weighty moment how it might fit my views on the current world situation: hardly anyone tolerated each other, as with the conflict between groups as the British, French, Spanish, Chinese, Japanese, Ottomons, and the like. I hoped that it had the answers I sought. Thus, I checked the book out, and then took my leave. I had to protect it from the rain by hiding it inside my coat as I crossed the drenched, crowded streets, and waited for traffic and people to pass by. To my surprise, a gypsy (Espeon) called over to me and provided some interesting revelations about my future. It was something about a civil war and "the land to the west". Eventually, I made for the manor.

Whenever any member of our family returned home from an outing, my father would question them at length to make sure compliance with his iron rule. I knew that my new book would be considered heresy, for he never allowed any of us to do what he would perceive as treasonous.

As I walked through the door, I was careful to use my vine whip to slide the book from my coat to underneath a nearby chair. Father came and looked me over carefully for anything he would find suspicious. Given his cruel thoroughness, I feared that he might discover the book. To my relief, he did not, and I was careful to grab it from underneath the chair as soon as he was out of sight. Gentle music filled the room. I glanced over to find Mother, who was giving Diane lessons on the piano. I headed upstairs towards my room. I looked nervously around for Julien-Achille, who might pull the book from my grasp and tell it to father. I noticed his head dart back behind a doorway as I approached my room. Finally, I had managed to slink into my chamber and opened the book.

I was introduced to a story of a merchant named Jean Calas, who lived in Toulouse with a mainly protestant family. Jean, in spite of his upbringing to the Protestant Church, was known to be a good family man to his wife and children who were all Protestant—that is, all except for Marc-Antoine, who would convert to the Roman Church. What surprised me was, even then, Jean did not mind the conversion. When Marc, who was reckless in nature, lost all of his money gambling, he hanged himself in a fit of despair. Jean and his family were shocked by his suicide, and they mourned for him. In a very unfortunate turn of events, the more bigoted villagers accused Jean for the death, for the Romantics were told that Protestants killed their own sons as a practice. Thus, Jean was put in irons and later executed. I found this tale rather grim, for, although I had never heard of this Jean Calas, I had not realized how foolish people can be! To think a town would condemn someone to death simply because he did not follow their religion – it was preposterous!

That night, mother called everyone to supper from downstairs. I was about to head down when I had noticed the book was still on my bed sheets. I could not allow anyone to discover my secret, so I hid it by slipping it into a drawer inside my desk. At supper, we were served cooked fish, onion soup, diced potatoes, apricots, apples, and bananas, with the ice cream as a dessert. Father especially enjoyed the fish, which he gulped down voraciously. As for mother, she ate only apples and apricots; Julien-Achille had diced potatoes as well as a share of the fish. Samuel and Diane partook of the soup, with Diane also having a banana. And as for myself, I also had diced potatoes, as well as the apricots and a small serving of the soup. Mother, father, and I were also served a sort of black tea derived from east India.

As he was eating his fish, Julien, like the pest he always was, suddenly stated to father that I was hiding something earlier today as I entered the house. Father stared at me intensely and uttered a grave warning, "you best not hide anything from _me_, Aurélien. If I find your brother's words to be true, I assure you that you will be dealt with appropriately."

As soon as everyone left the table, I returned to my room to continue reading the book. I continued to be amazed at how Voltaire's views matched my own. His writings had become my new means of escape.


	4. Thursday, 31 October, 1776

**Thursday, 31 October, 1776**

I have read _Treatise on Tolerance_ often now and continued to discover the benefits of tolerance, as well as many interesting, uplifting, and notorious facts I had not learned before. The natural laws, I was taught, were laid upon all Pokémon as our birthright. A wild Pokémon would not have to fear about paying taxes to some kingly figure, nor would they have fought a war against other nations (assuming they have nations at all). Yet now, as I looked at our own civilization, I was disgusted to see what a pitiful state we were in. Even now, there are many nations who fight over scraps of land, religions that deemed themselves true and demeaned others, making lifelong servants of those deemed beneath them.

The Arcean faith that we now hold was one such religion and that was a cause for much concern, for it had many denominations that anyone would come to name. Swollen by their righteous pride, they had lost their power to heal and comfort the ill of heart, and instead attacked others' beliefs. Thus, its followers succumbed to the rise of fanaticism. Such was the reason pride was a deadly sin; if left unchecked, it would always lead to chaos. In reflection, perhaps this explained why father had always been such a hot-tempered soul. If only he had learned to appreciate the common good of the other beliefs, he would not have been the way he is now. All Arcean faiths, and perhaps even the Arabic faiths, would band together and work for the common cause of opening up all Pokémon to the word of Arceus. If only my father's soul, in his death before judgment, were to come hither and read these words, he would understand what the entire family wanted so dearly for him to know.

Beforehand, I rarely understood why the Church of Rome always contradicted itself through the centuries. One of the Ten Commandments, composed by the High and Merciful Lord Himself, stated not to kill. Yet, should one look upon the history of the Roman Church, he would see how they have (and perhaps still do) persecuted Protestants during the Reformation, slaughtered the Jews during the Crusades, and murdered countless heretics and women for witchcraft. In reading Voltaire, I pledged myself membership to the new sacred faith of reason, from which I now train my judgment.

But by no means do I condemn the Faith entirely, for there are several lessons that I still hold true. In first, I believe the Seven Heavenly Virtues and the Seven Deadly Sins; I have already mentioned how Pride consumed the various sects of the "Holy" faith. In second, the Ten Commandments (save for a few that I have concern for, such as one that says not to worship any other god).

Keeping in mind the acts purposed by the Faith, I must ponder if they are hypocritical, for they often break their own oaths for the sake of their own power.

I daresay, I wonder if they worship the Dark One.


	5. Tuesday, 5 November, 1776

**Tuesday, 5 November, 1776**

I was absent for three days before I wrote this entry The most dreadful moment would haunt my mind for the days to come…

Second of November; I read near to the end of the book. I was stunned to learn about what Pokémon must endure in their lives: civilizations fighting one another to their doom in a world beset by sin. The natural law is the law of Arceus. I have felt that it is in my place to do whatever I can to aid the world towards an enlightened age, where the Dark One would no longer haunt or torment the minds and souls of so many men, as he had for thousands of years. He would be gone from Creation entirely. But then as I pondered such depths, Cecile came into my chamber unexpectedly, content as ever.

"_Bonsoir_, Aurélien? How goes you?"

"It is going well, madam. And you are?"

"I am well at the moment" As she closed the door. She had approached me and saw the book that was with me with a spark of interest.

"Oh, are you reading the Bible? It has been weeks since I last saw you with that."

I was not certain how to respond. It was certainly not the Bible, but I would get caught if she found out. I would not dare lie to her, as that would violate the Lord's Commandment. I had no choice but to let her approach me and get the book and discover the truth. She was obviously curious.

"Where did you get this book?" She asked, and I answered that I received it from the library nearby.

"And what is this about?" She asked again. In attempting to hide its witty criticisms of our modern faith, I merely stated that a philosopher wrote it to help with the struggles between European powers. But she then grew concerned.

"Oh, it is great that you read something that would help enlighten you, but it would be best if you were to hide that from your father before he sees!" She spoke with a faint tone of distress as she attempted to hold it down. But suddenly the door opened again, and there stood my father. He was suspicious at our astonished faces and questioned us at length. Upon discovering my secret which I had held for so long, a veil of rage came upon his features. He looked at me with his fur standing on end. I knew what came next.

"Heretic!" he thundered! "After all these years, you come to betray the faith taught to you from birth?! In the Name of the Lord you shall be punished!"

He seized me by the neck as mother and Cecile protested and tossed me into a dark and empty room that had not been used for a long time. I tremble in fear even now as I continue to write about this experience. I braved a look into his dreadful, wrathful eyes as he declared sourly, "For seven days you will stay here. You shall not come out, and nor shall you eat! This punishment will teach you not to betray the one true faith which has been known through the generations! As Arceus casts His Judgment upon you, you shall learn what Jesus died to tell his people!"

In all his rage, he slammed and locked the door; the noise of the door slamming left my legs trembling. I lay there in the dark crying, never believing that such a horrible punishment would come to me. There was only darkness around me except for the light from underneath the door. During the day, dim sunlight would seep through the door from the hallway. At night, the faintest moonlight provided only the slightest sight. I was in a ravaging hunger, and might have perished had it not been for Cecile, who faithfully lent me a boiled egg once a day. The blackness filled me with a fear of malign spirits. On the first night, I had a gruesome nightmare of being crucified as a heretic, with father sentencing me to death, and Brother David lighting the fire, burning me alive! I would be a prisoner for the entire week! Finally, I prayed to Arceus to spare my life, for this punishment was not His will, but due to father's lack of care for others—or even for his own peers.

I thought about how he was some sort of manifestation of all sin. His haughtiness and pride were from his belief in his noble blood and heritage. From that pride is his greed, and perhaps a belief in some predator-prey dynamic, where he unfairly saps the coin from his low-class peasants through high taxes. His wrath and ill temper, and the beatings and punishments done on his wife and children, are obvious. Also being a noble, he did not wish to do any work and calls forth servants to do some of his duties for him, putting him under sloth. And as for mother, she probably did not marry him willingly, for this marriage was only a means to forge an alliance between our two houses; he must have married her not out of love, but lust, that burning desire one feels when seeing a woman. Gluttony is perhaps one of his less obvious sins, but his taste for sweets, wine, and fish are well-known. Neither am I certain about his envy, but taking to mind his rivalry with Larousse de Gaulle during the dueling tournaments, he may have felt envy for him having greater stature or wealth than him. I know little of de Gaulle's estate, and I can only make assumptions from what I know.

In times, I regret being born in his blood.

Three days past, and my father finally unlocked and opened the door. I was initially afraid that he would dole out further punishment on me, but what he had done was different. He wanted to repent for his mistakes, and urged me to come out. So I did. As I had done so, he has confessed to me,

"I have realized my sin, and now I want to give you my fair apology. If you please, accept it, and I will do everything in my power to control my temper so that this would not happen again."

At first I did not understand, considering the intolerable treatment that he imposed upon the family since his marriage with my mother. Now he wished for some sort of atonement. One would think that he would seek not my forgiveness, but rather that of Arceus. At first, I found no reason to forgive him. But I considered the notions I read from Voltaire's book (which I would later find burned at a fireplace the days before), of how tolerance of others' beliefs in spite of one's own is one of the keys to forming a perfect harmony and peace with others. I realized that if I did not forgive him, he would only succumb to more rage. In turn, there would be more suffering, and thus less happiness. His attempt for forgiveness would be in vain.

In considering all these points, I forgave him…

Father felt satisfied, and he smiled. Then Cecile came over to me.

"My goodness!" She exclaimed in surprise, "You look terrible! Come, and let me get you something to eat!"

She was right, for when I looked down to see myself, I was so thin and bare that my bones showed. This must have been from eating no more than the boiled eggs for all this time. What was more was that I could barely walk, and so I knew that I had to eat and exercise to return to normal.

As I went for the dining room, I glanced at a nearby clock and was surprised to notice that it was past two in the afternoon. When we arrived, Cecile began cooking me much food. She gave me an apple a to make sure I did not starve during then. When she was done some half an hour later, I was served a bowl of warm onion soup, a plate of baked potatoes, and a glass of water. After I was fed, Cecile told me to simply wait for a moment to restore my health. I went outside to the courtyard to take in the greenery, reveled by the fact that my prayer was answered.

I thanked Him for saving me.


	6. Epilogue

The night of June 15th, 1778 – months after France recognized America's independence from Britain – Julien-Achille left the manor to join the French foreign army and join the Americans in the American Revolutionary War. His father, agitated and without a firstborn son to inherit his wealth, had to abandon his plan to put Laurentin into church service. And so, he turned to Laurentin and proposed that he, at the date of his death, inherit all of his wealth. He accepted it.

By 1785, _Seigneur_ Léonard-Arsène died of tuberculosis inside his room, and Laurentin, now an adult, became the new lord of the estate. He was even given his own house inside Paris, while the rest of his family stayed behind. Throughout his new life, Laurentin bought several books that he read in his spare time. These books included _The Spirit of Laws_ by Montesquieu, _Leviathan_ by Thomas Hobbes, and _Essay on the Origin of Languages_ by Jean-Jacques Rousseau. Among his favorites were _Candide_ and _Micromégas_ by Voltaire.

On July 14th, 1789, Laurentin saw the siege of the Bastille that marked the start of the French Revolution. Taking note of the brutal attacks, he grew concerned about his stature in his home. During the following days of the Great Fear, peasants from all around the kingdom burned down many _châteaux_ in response to the siege. Laurentin became convinced that France was falling into chaos.

On July 30th, Laurentin received word that the United States, after a decade of discord, was finally brought to order by President George Washington. He was pleased to find a nation founded underneath a promising constitution that guaranteed the natural rights of its citizens.

On August 4th, the recently formed National Assembly passed a law that abolished all feudal rule in France. Having heard of this, Laurentin was convinced that he would no longer hold his own privileges.

One night, his house was burned suddenly by a group of extremists. Having managed to grab his money and sword, Laurentin jumped out the window, swam along the Seine River, and then escaped to the nearby woods. The next day, devastated by the loss of his home, he was convinced that France was indeed falling into anarchy where he would not live to see another day. Thus, he decided to make a brave choice by heading to the seaport of le Havre, where he would ride a ship to the United States. There, he believed, he would find a new place to call home. Along the way, he had met a few comrades who wished to help him on his journey. They even protected him from some of the extremists who were attempting to capture him, and then kill him for bounty.

When they arrived the next month at le Havre, they were confronted by the leader of these extremists, a vengeful Gallade named Samuel Maxence. Samuel wanted vengeance for the sorry poverty of the middle class and peasantry, which he blamed on the upper class (including the King and Queen). When Laurentin convinced him by explaining the error behind this vengeance, Samuel realized his folly and repented. Laurentin would be let go to the ship towards America.

While on the sea, Laurentin renounced his faith to the Church of Rome, but still kept his general faith in Arceus.

When he arrived on Boston in early October, Laurentin, realizing that he had run out of money to buy a decent home, and accompanied by a trustworthy friend he made at the ship, he traveled along the road towards the state of New York. He soon settled upon the town of Johnstown, which would become his new home for the rest of his life.

By late May, Laurentin fell in love with a female Servine named Helen, who also felt the same for him. On July, 1791, they would get married, and then bear a child two years later. They have named that child "Jean," after Jean Calas.

When the War of 1812 broke out, Jean, in spite of his father's warnings, joined the United States Army to fight against the British. By the end of the war, he would revisit the family in once piece, and then live off on his own.

On November 8th, 1836, Aurélien Laurentin died peacefully in his home.


End file.
